Keep Breathing
by Pyxl-Genevien
Summary: You, Dave Strider, ponder the term "Stupidity" as your life drains away before your eyes. As a teenager in school and living only with your Bro, you are forced to refer back to the term at a constant. Soon, you find yourself at a loss for meaning and begin suffering immense stupidity yourself! With not much to loose but even less to gain, what will you do?


Another day wasted in the life of Dave Fucking Strider. Before we indulge further into the topic, you'd just like to take a moment to ponder the meaning of the term "Stupidity".

**stu·pid·i·ty**

[stoo-**pid**-i-tee, styoo-]

_**noun, plural **_**stu·pid·i·ties **for 2.

**1.**

_the state, quality, or fact of being stupid._

**2.**

_a stupid act, notion, speech, etc._

Excellent. Now that's over with, shall we continue? Where were we…oh, right, a wasted day in the life of Dave Fucking Strider. You, Dave Strider, are currently standing on the grounds outside your SCHOOL, various students pushing by you as they talk loudly about shit you don't care about. For a reason you could probably figure out if you really cared to, this makes you feel fairly alone. Cheesy as it sounds, you, Dave Strider, are indeed, QUITE ALONE.

As this thought whirls around _stupidly_ in your head, you are approached by a group of fairly _stupid _ASSHOLES. Upon arrival, the assholes proceed to shove you repeatedly into one another, thus knocking your shit out of your arms, then retreating like the bunch of assholes they are. Those _stupid_ fucks. You are very aware of the fact that you are capable of BEATING THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF THEM, but you decide otherwise, instead picking up your things and waiting for your BRO.

Said bro, however, is nowhere in sight and hasn't been for some time now. So you, Dave Strider, as the sun grows lower in the sky and the surrounding buildings radiate heat into your body, take matters into your own hands. Your own small, pale hands.

You decide dully to simply walk the rout taken by your bro every day to get you to school, a _stupid_ rout full of _stupid_ people you have the privilege of being in constant contact with. Despite the HEAT, it's BUSY out and as you step deeper and deeper into the city you call home, -or you would if that's what you considered it-, the more agitated you grow with the people around you.

Men and women alike push past you, talking on phones or yelling at screaming children. A particularly large man approaches you from behind, shouldering you as he passes and knocking your shades from your face.

**STRIFE!**

Or not…you would totally partake in STRIFE at the moment if it weren't for your temporary blindness and furious scramble to retrieve your glasses from the crowded sidewalk.

Your eyes properly concealed and your things safely retrieved, you continue on your way to your apartment. You arrive fairly quickly, dismissing the enormous size of the familiar building and heading straight for the life-saving sanctuary you like to call, an ELEVATOR. Your apartment, the one on the top floor of the _stupidly_ enormous building, welcomes you with SHITTY SWORDS, SMUPPETS, and AAAAIIIR CONDITIONIIIIIING! Fuck. Yes.

You give up before you start on your adventurous search for food, and instead head straight to your den. It doesn't seem like your bro's here and you begin to wonder if he—holy shit he wasn't there before.

You spot from over the couch the painted face of your brother's prized possession, the puppet Lil' Cal. Cal is staring at you as he usually does, driving a familiar sick feeling into the pit of your stomach, one caused only by that of Lil' Cal or the occasional Smuppet STRIFE. Other times, your bro will catch you at your weakest and challenge you to a SHITTY SWORD DUEL, ones you have a tendency to ALWAYS LOSE. Sometimes even, you will have rap-offs, ones he seems to ALWAYS BE PREPARED FOR as his material just gets better every time.

You lose those ones too. It makes you sick. The point to recognize here is that it's your bro's fault, it always is. Just like today, when he leaves you to walk home in the heat. Sickening. And _stupid_.

So, once again, you Dave Strider are left to take matters into your own hands.


End file.
